


Tumblr Meme Drabbles

by Everlind



Category: Homestuck, Kingdom Hearts, Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Beware Crossovers, Drabbles Galore!, Gen, M/M, Will probably contain gratuitous amounts of johnkat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:42:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everlind/pseuds/Everlind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all the drabbles I write and post on tumblr in response to memes or whenever I am taking requests.</p><p>Featuring multiple fandoms, multiple pairings, weirdass crossovers and general pandemonium. </p><p>Each chapter is an individual drabble with the pairing, rating and possible warnings listed as needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homestuck (John, Karkat - PG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt was: John/Karkat, trollstuck, in the fleet/military men? :3

This was supposed to be a covert operation. Top secret. Classified. In-and-out again, leaving not so much as single trace of your passage. Delicate.

 _I’ll need a psychic_ , you’d said.  _We’ve got the right troll for the job_ , they’d said. 

Tall. Forward-jutting horns like a challenge. Highblood. Absolutely batshit insane.  _Hi Karkat!_ He’d said.

 _Anyone but him_ , you’d said (loudly). 

Behind you alarms blare. Something explodes. The building groans, sags and the completely collapses.

Explodes again.

You glare at your partner.

Egbert raises both hands. “It was an accident,” he says.


	2. Homestuck (Dave, Jade - PG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt was: DaveJade/college AU (Jade was homeschooled until she was 17, so college is her first formal education environment)

There is such a thing as being too smart for school, you discover.

“I don’t understand why he got so huffy!” Jade’s saying, flinging her arms out in exasperation and braining an unfortunate passerby in the hallway with her book bag. “I was only trying to explain why he was wrong. So wrong! All of the wrong. Forests! Bushels! Oceans! Universes!”

“Easy Harley,” you says, tapping her wrist.

“Sorry!” she says, waving apologetically at the unconscious body on the floor. “And I do not have an attitude problem!”

“Yeah, well, allow me to let you in on a secret,” you answer. “Teachers don’t like to be corrected.”

Jade stops and stares at you.

“ _Especially_  if they are wrong,” you add.

Jade blinks. “Dave,” she says. “Dave, college makes no sense at all!”

Your little girl is growing up. You’re so proud.


	3. Homestuck (John, Karkat - PG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: Johnkat post game honeymoon

“That is the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard,” Karkat says, side eyeing you. 

“It’s a human tradition,” you insist.

“No, it is the most asinine regurgitated dribble of runny diarrhea I have ever had the misfortune to be exposed to, but. Shit, fine.”  

Awesome. You pick up your palhoncho-come-boymatefriendsprit and carry him across the threshold. You might be humming a wedding tune.

Karkat doesn’t need to know.


	4. Kingdom Hearts//Pacific Rim AU (Riku, Sora - PG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: Sora and Riku in Pacific Rim.

“Nervous?”

“What me, pssht.” Sora flaps his hand dismissively.

He looks like he might be a sneeze away from shitting his drivesuit and he knows that you know. You don’t blame him. First category IV the both of you are taking on.

Skeleton Dawn rises proud and tall in the Shatterdome. Also still absolutely battered from the last trashing you took -and only from a category III, at that. Poor girl.

No choice. Time to get ready and save the world.

-

Sora is scared shitless. Hell, you’re scared shitless. Xemnas is a, well, a  _huge ugly motherfucker_ Sora language  _whaaaat_   _it’s true look at it’s face eeeeew are those tentacles_  DUCK  _duck duck goose_  oh my god Sora  _you know what_ what  _after this we should go out for calamares YIKES_ close call.

Both of you whirl and duck and leap, blade flashing and punching holes in the looming hunk of alien hell creature as if you’re unlocking hidden doors so its intestines can slither out in a flood of bright blue gore. You’re the brains and experience, while Sora is all raw talent and  _OoOooh Kaiju shiny lets make it PAY_.

It’s terrifying and perfect and there’s nobody you’d share this with but for this crazy wonderful kid.

Needless to say, you kick that Kaiju’s ass.

(and go out for calamares after)


	5. Homestuck (John, Karkat - PG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: TELL ME MORE  
> (continuation of [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1192344/chapters/2432928))

The only way to get Karkat to stop screaming (so loud, gosh) when he’s like this is to kiss him. So that’s what you do. You know. Where it hurts. People do that, right? Kiss the place it hurts to a make it better?

And hey it works, it really does, because Karkat sort of relaxes out of the huddle he was in to lay down flat. “Did you just kiss my ass?” he asks. You can hear his frown. It’s the ‘what the shit John’-one. It’s personally tailored to your idiocy (Karkat says. Pfff.)

“Well-“

“Did you just kiss my ass with my pants still on?”

“Yes b-“

“At least do it properly!” he interjects with a snarl.

“Er.” You go. Ponder the slope of his spine as he rolls onto his belly on the ground. The small of his back dips before curving up sharply towards his ass, only becoming more so pronounced when Karkat props himself up onto his elbows so he can watch you from over the crook of his arm. Ngh. “You want me to-to— take off your pants?” you ask just to be sure.

“Applause for the dimwitted fucknub -that’s you John. Now scrape your wits out of the load gaper knead and a fully formed turd out of it so you can get on with it -I have an ass that needs kissing. You see, some idiot dropped me on it because he insisted on performing some fucking inane human mating ritual and I’m not seeing any kissing John!” he kicks at you with his foot.

“Okay,” you say quickly, before he dissolves into yet another hissy fit. 

You take off his pants.

It’s awesome.


	6. Homestuck (John, Karkat - PG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: Johnkat, on a Ferris wheel where one of them has a fear of heights

“-when it obviously does not make any fucking sense at all. I thought human concupiscent relationships were about trust and respecting your partner’s wishes. Even though you idiot pink monkeys seem to think our quadrants are not based on-“

Karkat’s voice drones on and on just beyond the high-pitched static resonating in your head. You feel like missed a step going down the stairs, this gut-wrenching ‘oh no’ put on endless repeat. It’s too warm. You’re shivering. 

“-most hilarious of all is that you’re not even fucking listening, are you, John fucking Egbert? Can’t say I’m-“

The cabin jolts. Stops. Can’t see the ground. You think you’re going to be sick.

“-what is your problem anyway. Hey, face ache. Egbert! John.  _John_!”

“What,” your body convulses as your attention refocusses. “Sorry.”

Karkat frowns at you. His irises are bright red and pin you down like butterfly against a board. “You look like you’re about to bring up the contents of your digestive sack all over my shoes. In which case, please fucking don’t.”

“I’m fine,” you manage. In just a moment, the Ferris wheel will move on and return you to terra firma, you tell yourself. Nothing will happen. This is perfectly safe. You know it is and yet cold sweat drenches the back of your shirt.

And that’s when Karkat realises. His reaction is exactly what you feared it would be; a slow curling of his mouth -this sort of incredulous amusement.

“Don’t tell me, the Heir of Breath is afraid of heights?!” His teeth are sharp and pointy between his parted lips as he cracks up. “That’s the dumbest thing ever, John. You, flying idiot god of the a-“

“ _I AM NOT THE HEIR OF BREATH ANYMORE_!” you scream at him and then you forget how to, well, breathe.

Shit. Shit. Can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t fly either gone leaving you stripped and defenseless and crushed under what was once yours to command you’re blind while seeing with your eyes wide-open drowning when you’re swimming and you can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe-

“Hey, hey,” Karkat says and his voice has dropped low and soothing, but still vaguely irritated. “Calm your weird mammalian rumble spheres.” His hand shoots out to poke you in the forehead, careful of his claw. “Breathe, John. C’mon, you’re not that fucking dumb you don’t remember how. Breathe, like this.” Exaggerating, he inhales. 

You try to mimic him, taking in a gulp that is too large, choke on it and fail to decide whether to let it out or bring it to your lungs. The tip of Karkat’s finger lingers against your skin before sliding down towards the bridge of your nose, slipping off the side near your eye and passing close enough to catch your lashes. 

That’s - _oh_.

Knuckles on the crest of your cheek and red eyes are boring into yours. Short gasps, like a stalling engine, and then suddenly you’re breathing again. You reach out with both your hands and grasp his free one, hang on, but you’re suddenly curiously calm. The air rushes into your body easy as ever. That was weird.

Meanwhile Karkat thinks: “Yeah. Still got it.”


	7. The Prince of Tennis (Tezuka, Atobe - PG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: So I guess the pairing is Imperial? with bonus Cat! (i sorta guessed the meme so i dodn't put a ship name in the previous ask oops)  
> Makes more sense if you've read [Tezuka's Hairy Little Problem](http://archiveofourown.org/works/865452/chapters/1660332)

“Tezuka!”

He turns around. Is not truly surprised to see Atobe approach him with easy strides, his long legs eating up the distance between them with no effort at all.

“Atobe,” he says. The name rolls of his tongue in a white cloud. It is very cold today.

Atobe is wrapped up in layers upon layers of blinding, pristine white. A light blue scarf is wound around his neck. Sturdy, expensive boots protect his feet from the glittering layer of frost clinging to every surface. 

The effect is rather ruined by the fluffy earmuffs cradling his head. Then again, those look extravagant, as well.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he goes on, mouth curving.

“Aa,” Tezuka agrees.

His coat squirms convulsively over his chest. The fabric bulges outward, strains, makes a sharp keening noise. Squirms and travels up towards Tezuka’s throat. Atobe reels back, eyes growing wide with horror. 

Cat’s head pops up out of the neckline, hair all fluffy staticy. She mewls.

“Tezuka you-“ Atobe blinks, relaxes. His face softens. “You kept her.”

“So I did,” Tezuka responds, getting a mouthful of ear as Cat turns towards his voice.

“Why is she in your coat?”

“It is too cold for her to go outside now, but she gets restless when confined in the house for long periods,” Tezuka explains. Cat pokes out a pink-toed paw to bat at the finger Atobe stretches out towards her.

“So you are taking her for a walk?” Atobe goes, sounding as if he finds this behaviour highly amusing.

“Aa,” Tezuka says, frowning.

Atobe scratches the top of Cat’s head. A purr vibrates against Tezuka’s chin. 

“Let ore-sama treat you to a cup of tea, Tezuka,” he suddenly says. A hand settles between his shoulder blades and herds him into motion and along.

“That will not be necessary,” Tezuka manages, decidedly not spluttering.

“Oh, believe me, Tezuka,” Atobe says, giving him an unreadable look. “It really is.”


	8. The Prince of Tennis (Shishido, Ohtori - PG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: Silver Pair, EA verse, Shishido giving the dog a bath (or trying to)  
> Makes more sense if you've read [Heart](http://silver-advent.livejournal.com/8763.html)

“I thought dogs were supposed to like water,” Choutarou says. 

Foam is aplenty. Water is everywhere. Shishido makes an utterly lame gurgling noise. Shin whines as though he’s being brutally murdered. Choutarou sighs and crosses his arms. The white fabric strains deliciously over the swell of his biceps. Shin decides to use Shishido’s distraction as the moment to wildly scramble out of the tub, land drenched and squirming into Shishido’s lap, before attempting to crawl into his neck. And succeeding. 

Pathetic yipping noises.

Shin’s butthole is about level with his nose.

Choutarou is probably laughing and he can’t even flip him off on account of hysterical dog in his damn face. Wonderful. 

“I have an idea,” Choutarou says.

-

“My  _jeans_ ,” Shishido whines, rather like the dog.

Only now the dog is happily lolling his tongue out and wagging his wet tail all over the place, sending water everywhere. Not that it matters when he’s sitting fully clothed in the tub. Choutarou hums and aims the shower head at him teasingly. Puts dog shampoo on his head (so Shin can see it won’t harm him! Of course. No other reason.Yeah right, pull the other one, it’s got bells on it). Massages the soap in until it’s worked into a nice lather.

Scratches both their heads. “Good boys.”

Shishido flicks water at him in retaliation. Choutarou flicks back. Shin barks and starts to shake water out of his fur.

There’s a water fight. Everything gets very wet.

Guess who gets to mop it up?

That’s right.


	9. Homestuck (John, Karkat - Explicit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: oh man something about i need to know about the rug burns john gets after he fucks karkat into the carpet  
> Continuation of [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1192344/chapters/2432955)
> 
> Contains xeno of the nook+bulge variety, intercrural sex and awesome butts.

It’s awesome, because it’s an awesome butt.

 _Karkat’s_  awesome butt.

Which you get to touch. Awesomely.

 

You still got him belly down, awesome butt up, straddling the backs of his thighs. Karkat’s pants are bunched around his knees somewhere behind you, so you walk a hand up over the swell of his buttock -index and middle finger swaggering, the rest tucked into your palm and thumb swinging jauntily- and on to the small of his back, kicking the fabric of his shirt up as you go.

“Tickles!” Karkat hisses and you bite your lip at how the muscles in his back clench and release in response.

Okay. Wow.

He’s warm under your palms when you press them down to frame his hips, thumbs catching over the slope of his ass. It’s a dude-butt -squareish and hollowing at the sides, but it has this lovely nip where it flows into his back. This little hollow that’s just a little above where the tailbone’d be, right over his spine and all dusky shadowy alluring. Perfect for a kiss.

You can feel the air go backwards into his lungs when your lips brush the skin. It smells like the nape of his neck and the spot under the edge of his jaw, but darker, hazier. The sort of scent that makes your lips and tongue flush with a kind of sensitive hunger, the inside of your mouth going moist.

“Still tickles?” you ask, lifting your head just enough to talk, but close enough the heat of those words cause his muscles to convulse again.

Karkat’s exhale comes harsh and shivery, shoulder blades jutting up and horns pointing down. “John,” he says warningly. He’s wound tight like a live wire, red-hot and ready to spring.

It sends a thrill through you, that this alien boy of yours would let you put your hands everywhere. Well, maybe he’ll fight you a little, tense and loud and hands struggling to pull you in instead of away.

Like now.

Because when you trail your tongue over the line of his spine, Karkat hisses and his chest rumbles as though there’s a growl stuck there, but his body makes this slow, unmistakable roll, hips rocking down. It’s gorgeously, unabashedly sexual. Better yet, when your lick comes to a stop mid-back, Karkat’s hand shoots over his shoulder, reaching for you at an impossible angle to grip your hair. Drags you until you all but faceplant into his neck.

“Stop teasing,” he says. His voice has gone thrilling-thick strange and your hand is splayed over that odd, hard ridge curving along the bottom of his ribcage. Used be insect legs, you remember. _Aliens_ , man. So weird. 

“Pushy pushy,” you say, grinning.

“I’ll show you pushy,” he growls. “I’ll push you off a fucking cliff, John human Egbert, don’t think I won’t.”

“Hm,” you’re smiling though, hiding it in the soft spot behind his ear. He’s holding you there, locked against him as the both of you try to figure out how to -oh  _oh wow that’s yeah_. Yeah. Karkat lets out this breathy chuckle, maybe you said that out loud -it’s just that he arched into you and you grind back on pure instinct and holy shit it feels amazing. His hair is coarse, he’s warm underneath you and his claws prick your scalp and, yeah, you want to fuck him.

You don’t know how.

You draw a hiss out of Karkat by pressing your hips flush against his ass, pushing him hard into the carpet. He lifts himself into you and -you —you think he feels your dick, hard and snug and aching in your pants, because he goes still.

“Karkat, I don’t-“ you begin because you don’t, dammit. You  _want_  to though. Shit, you really, really want to. He’s so warm and right under you. 

“If I have to sit your dumb useless pasty pink ass down and explain how the birds and the bees work, I am going to slather myself in syrup and do a triple-fucking backflip off that shitty cliff myself-“

Nipping at his throat stutters him to a stop with a muffled  _ah_  into the cradle of his arms. Phew. “No, stupid, “ you say. “It’s just that. I got human bits and you got troll bits- and I don’t know if we even can. Uh.”

“Can ‘uh’ what? Fuck?”

“Yeah. That.”

“Oh my god.”

“Whaaat?”

“You-you-y-ts _shrrk_ -“ Yikes, that hurt your ears. How can that even be a ‘yes more’ noise? Whoa. “You got hands, don’t you?” he manages at last.

Oh. Hmm. Why yes. Yes, you do. Hell yes.

You’re folded over him and braced awkwardly on one arm. The carpet scrapes at your skin and Karkat won’t let go of your hair. It takes sliding off him a little and hitching your leg high over the small of his back to get your freehand where you both want it. His thighs are warm and a little parted. Just wide enough to ease your hand between them. Karkat goes still, breathing hard. Your index slides against the apex of his legs. He’s-  you’re. You’re not sure what you are feeling, but he’s burning hot there and  _wet_. You groan into his hair.

Karkat’s thumb swipes along scalp.

You wish you could  _see_ , but he’s not letting go and it’s soft and what’s there feels very sleek and tidy. Steadier pressure parts him along side your finger (-is —is that??) and as you trail up towards his front WHOA. You probably make a startled noise. You most definitely loose balance and once more smush your face into his hair (thank you nubby horns, you might’ve lost an eye otherwise). Karkat huffs out a laugh.

“Okay,” you manage, trying to get your weight under you again. “You have both.” You wriggle your fingers. Something wriggles back. “And it moves.”

Karkat tries to snort, you think, but he ends up doing his gravely laugh some more and hey, you crack up, too. Because it’s funny, you got a hand between his legs and what the hell is going on there even. But it feels awesome. Laughing, however, makes Karkat clench around your fingers as his body seizes up. He chokes on a gasp. 

You fight against his grip until you can kiss him, sloppy and needy and a completely off centre as you get at his mouth from over his shoulder. It takes licking at his dark lips until he licks back, pressing the sides of your faces together and a horn is poking your skull and you don’t care.

You cup him, tips of your fingers at the base of his alien dick and the rest of his crotch slick in your palm. Drag the whole of it back and forth, middle finger slotted a little higher to caress inside the- the slit (you are so pinning him down for a crash course on alien anatomy 101 later).

Your cock aches. You lean against him desperately. “Can I-“

“ _Yes_!” 

Neither of you properly gets their clothes off. It’s just a flurry of fumbling and trying to get your cock out of your pants-which is difficult because  _Karkat let go of my hair!_  and  _no fuck you!_  and  _I’m trying geez!_

His nape is damp from your heated exhales and his shirt is half in your mouth and your shoulders scream protest when Karkat gets his knees under himself, forcing you over him at an extreme angle, barely balancing on your own knees and hand. When you finally line up and push yourself between his legs it’s so  _slick warm soft tight_  you go shaky. Karkat grunts under your weight as you falter. Breath hisses through your teeth and you try again.

You cling to him, arm wrapped around his torso and later, later, you might see if you can actually fit inside -if he wants. You’re too turned on and needy now to do more but just rock into the wet space between his legs, his butt (which is awesome) fitting into your lap just right (so awesome).

He curves beautifully and he’s loud and unabashed and focussed -eyebrows furrowed as he sways back into you and his finger pads massaging your scalp and fingers swirling through your hair and oh wow, you had no idea it would be like this. This; feeling him breathe deep and jagged and the taste at the edge of your mouth when you kiss fleetingly, his red eyes and gray skin and black hair going everywhere as he does that whisper-shout only Karkat can, sibilant and dual toned, “John, John, John, John-” over and over again.

You never ever want to leave again.

You fuck him like that.

Muscles burning and shaking under the strain and clumsy as hell because you’re just… just  _moving_ and when you finally think to inch your hand down to his dick Karkat  _keens_. It’s weird and messy between his legs, all fingers and your own dick, too, and he’s wet, you can feel it trail down the inside of his thigh when you shift for better leverage.

It’s all molten, heady need rising low in your being, can feel yourself getting harder, getting closer and you’re afraid it’ll kill you when you get where you’re hurtling towards.

“John,” Karkat says. It’s very sudden, falls from his lips calm and clear. Maybe a little surprised. His whole body seizes up violently underneath you -enough to feel his spine fight under his skin against your front. He arches and his throat goes long and bare, sweaty salty when you drag your lips along it.

It’s messy. It kinda goes everywhere. You finally figure out the bucket thing.

You don’t care. Instead you press your face into the crook of his neck and pick up the pace as much as you dare. You slide easily and Karkat actually has to clench his legs together harder to provide friction. His hand is softer now in your hair, warm comforting pressure to keep you close. 

Your own release is harsh and violent, nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. It leaves you reeling and stomach feeling dislocated and a weird sensation at the back of your hips. You cling with both arms around his torso, Karkat taking your combined weight despite his own shaking exhales. You lean on him, knowing that he’s got you.

“Hey,” he says after a few minutes as you try and fail to get your breathing under control. 

You’re shaking. 

Karkat is steadier.

“Are you okay?” you choke out.

Slowly he eases both of you down. The carpet is ruined. You’re flat on top of him and he’s lying smack-dab in it on his stomach. The hand cupping your head is petting and finger combing -his arm must ache so bad from keeping it up and hooked back like he is. Feels nice, though. You press back into it. 

“I’m fine,” Karkat says. “You?”

You’re not sure. “That was-“

“Yeah.”

“My back hurts.”

“Yeah.”

“My hair hurts!” 

Karkat chuckles, low and rough and shiver-inducing. “We missed the bed,” he points out. He seems stupidly pleased with this.

Slowly, groaning like an old man that just fell down the stairs (all of the stairs -special sex stairs, at that), you lift yourself off him, dragging your legs under you and w _hat the flipping hell it’s like they’re on fire?!_

“I…,” you go, frowning down at his back and the sad rumple of his shirt banded under his armpits. “I think I have a rug burn.”

Karkat cracks open an eye -pupil blown wide, red iris the merest rim. Goes ‘hah’. Again, louder. And again. Laughs. At you!

“Hey!” you go, sitting down heavily on his butt and making him grunt. “Fuck you!”

“You just did.”

Huh.

That you did.

And it was awesome.


	10. John, Karkat - Explicit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: Congrats to you and all your followers for reaching your milestone~ Glad to be a follower of yours, you're a very talented and sweet person C: I have a prompt idea - (oooh dear it's Nsfw but oh well) Johnkat - Them showing each other how to get each other off because inter species relationship difficulties.

The crash course alien anatomy 101 is proving to be, uh, educational. So far. Yes.  _Ahem_.

You’re blushing aren’t you? Yeah, you are. Damn it. But! Karkat is, too. You’re pretty sure. Tipping your chin up and peering along the length of his body shows him sprawled on his back with an arm tossed over his eyes. Drama queen. However— you like the slow rise and fall of his chest, even controlled and deep as it is it betrays exactly how much this is affecting him. Looks really good like that, Karkat does. Flush on the bed, with only his lower legs hooked down over the edge, toes trailing along the floor. Sitting between his parted knees gives you an unprecedented view of him laid out for you, highlighted by the hazy glow of early evening.

And what a view it is.

It’s… interesting. There’s a, er, small tidy line between his legs and- yeah okay you have no idea what you’re looking at. Welp. 

“So,” you draw out slowly, peering at his crotch. “…how does it work?”

You can hear the smack of Karkat’s hand against his face. “Try shoving a caegar into the slot, then pull the handle.”

“…right.” 

“That was a joke.”

“I knew that!” you say indignantly. Also you’re not sure what a caegar is. Didn’t Terezi have one of those? God, you hope it’s not a body part. What would a caegar shaped body part even look like? You’re sure you don’t want to know. Aliens, man. Also; handle? What handle?

Karkat gets his elbows propped under him so he can glare at where you’re kneeling between his legs. The effect is a little ruined by bite mark on his throat and his kiss-swollen lips. “Just touch me, you backwards amoebae!” he grits out. 

Right. Hands. Touch him. Between his legs. That is a great idea, actually. Wish you’d thought of it yourself. You scoot closer, study the delicate furrow of red. It seems slightly dilated. Like you might be able to- tentative, you reach out press against him. There’s barely any resistance as your index slides inside of him, just like that. He’s wet and the clamp of his body is searing hot. Ffff _ff—uck_.

Suddenly there’s a rock stuck in your throat. “Like this?” you ask.

Karkat jumps about a mile and grabs your wrist so he can wrench your hand away. “ _No_ , holy fuck, you clumsy space ape,” he hisses. “That hurts!”

“Oh…” you immediately feel very dumb. “Sorry. I don’t know how to- and you with your weird alien bits!”

“So your first impulse is to poke your grubby handstalk into my nook like you’re prying around hoping to find diamonds up there? No  _don’t_ -“  he snarls, batting your hand away. “If you think I’m allowing you to manhandle me again you’re even stupider than I thought.”

Your throat clicks as you swallow. Stupid.

Breathing out hard through his nose, Karkat makes a visible effort to relax. Swallows, too. Lightly -gently- boxes the side of your head. Stays to tousle your hair a little. “Just… watch and learn, doofus,” he grumbles and then he slides the same hand between his legs.

Oh.

Okay. Proceed.

You sit on your ass and watch him stroke himself. He does it lightly, using his pointer, index and ring finger to caress up and down. There’s a hitch in his body, a stutter in his breathing and suddenly his index is trailing wetness. You bite your lip and rest your cheek against the inside of his leg. His fingers dip across his nook, once, twice and then he tucks a finger inside. His muscles tremble against your cheek. Your dick hurts.

This close he can smell him and he smells -you close your eyes for a second, part your lips. He smells like… like burnt sugar and you wonder if he’d taste like it, too, think you’d really like to find out, but he told you to watch, so that’s what you do. A drop of translucent red leaks down and you find yourself having to resist the urge to lick it up. You drop a kiss high up his inner thigh and curl your hands around his calves. 

He stops then, though, with two fingers curled into himself and the heel of his hand kneading at his pubic bone. “… John?” he goes and wow, okay, Karkat’s voice has dropped low and jarring. 

“Hmyeah?”

“Get up here,” he demands and you’re already lurching to your feet.

Both of you end up sitting within the cradle of each other’s legs, his bridging yours. Even better is that you can kiss him again. As amazing as he looked on his back with his fingers working between his legs, kissing is so, so,  _so_  much better.

You like how he takes your mouth harsh and demanding, tipping his head and sliding his tongue between your lips and then goes soft and unhurried so he can lick softly into you. While he does that, he helps you move his fingers into the heat of his groin. You find that he feels more open now, slick and spreading under your combined touch. Pulling away from his mouth, you look down to see your fingers sink into him up to the second knuckle.

Yeah, that’s- that’s OKAY what’s that, that’s  _an alien dick, wow, that’s a thing and okay there’s a lot of it where was he keeping tha_ t.

Karkat is huffing laughter against your cheek, you wish he wouldn’t because his voice is still screwed up and sharp enough it gives you shivery goosebumps.

“Your face,” he says. He’s smiling hard enough his cheek bunches against yours. Part of you wants to turn and see, but he might just stop doing it.

“It’s shaking my hand,” you say faintly. 

“Hi John,” he says and then he curls into you, the tip of his nose skating against your jaw. He’s still smiling, you can hear it mellow the harsh buzz permeating his vowels.

“Hi Karkat,” you say and allow him to wrap your fingers around his… alien… dick (it totally looks like a tentacle, you wish you didn’t finally understand all those jokes Rose kept making oh my god). It’s smooth, a little like the inside of your bottom lip and moist. It’s really strange and you’re more than a little caught off guard by how strong its grip is as it winds around your fingers. 

“Are you doing that?” you ask, sounding winded. Your dick is still hard, you’re glad for that, but also a little weirded out. “The moving?”

Heavy exhale. Karkat nips at your throat, shivers from the foundation of his bones. “Stop touching for a second.”

You do and after a moment his dick stills, then arcs in an oddly graceful movement towards his belly. Controlled. The underside is ribbed at the root. You don’t know what to make of it. He’s attractive, but different, a lot different, something in the length of his arms and the bumpy ridge in the middle of his chest, like a second, solid spine. His collarbone folds outwards and there’s a hard, horny protrusion on his either side of his ribcage, right under his gills. He’s got horns and he’s gray and he chirps like a cricket. 

You crack up. “What was  _that_?” when he doesn’t answer you say: “Do it again.”

Not right away he doesn’t, but then he’s showing you how to softly squeeze him between your fingers, rhythmic rolling waves of pressure like you’re massaging him —and he does it again, helplessly.

“Fuck,” he snarls ducking his head into the crook of your neck. A hand plunges into your hair and the other unwinds from yours, reaches for your cock. “How do I-“ his voice is gritty and rattles in his chest when he asks the question. A knuckle gently trails up the stiff length of your dick.

You hiss in a whine. Show him how. Karkat’s grip is too soft, his movements too slow. He holds you awkwardly, keeping the tips of his fingers angled straight to keep his claws clear. He kisses your neck, your face, huffs out hot exhales against the tragus of your ear. A wave of need roils through your body. 

Karkat is sopping wet and tangled around your fingers even as you hump the shallow grip of his hand desperately. It’s clumsy. The angle doesn’t really work. Your hand is cramping. It feels amazing. You scream wordlessly into his hair because you fear you’re splitting at the edges. Both of you huddle over the tangle of your hands stroking and tugging and twining in your laps, smearing mouths together because you’re too horny to kiss and halfway through you have to laugh, a little, because there’s a hand of his and yours on his junk and one of his and your own on your dick and you really have no idea what is going on there anymore. Desperately want to touch the rest of him, too, get more familiar with that strangeness, but your hands are full. So you nudge his face with yours, trail your mouth open from temple to chin.

For some reason the gesture takes him completely aback and you have a clear picture of his face utterly open and affected and then you’re spilling your climax into the mess of your hands. 

“Shit, John,” he says, laying a close-mouthed kiss on your mouth. “Shit.” His lips trail to your nose, your forehead, the crown of your head.

You’re dazedly nuzzling the hard ridge of his collarbone when Karkat shifts his limbs around until he can mount your thigh and rut himself to completion. That’s your aftermath; Karkat arching as he rocks into your grip, warmth and the husky scent of his skin and the tiding motions of his body -it’s painful and endless and bright and sharp and over much too soon.

It ends in a rush of wet heat. Literally. Your brain is muzzy enough it takes you a while to realize you’re sitting in a puddle of troll jizz. Unexpected. Kinda sticky. Weird. There’s a furrow stitched between his brows and his hips sway in tiny thrusts against the swell of your thigh, his dick is heavy between your fingers, throbbing with his release. He’s gasping your name.

You cuddle him against your front, hands spread across his back as he twitches through countless aftershocks, until he goes heavy and still.

“So,” you offer after a while. “Buckets.”

“Yeah,” he goes. He sounds like he has a mouthful of cotton. “Buckets.”

“Karkat.”

“…what.”

“Problem. Bed? Ruined.”

Karkat leans back to peer at your face, uses careful fingers to comb your sweaty hair out if your face. “I’ll be in my coon,” he replies as he leans in to kiss your mouth.

You splutter against his lips. “I can’t sleep in sopor, you ass!”

“Should’ve thought of that before you crammed your knuckle shuffler up my nook like you were trying to find the goddamn panic button.”

You bodily toss him out of your lap and flatten yourself across him so he’s chest down in his own wet spot.

(you sleep on the couch and wake up with Karkat burrowed under the sheets against your back)


End file.
